


Damn... This is love, huh.

by fuckgoose



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fishing, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckgoose/pseuds/fuckgoose
Summary: Hashirama shows up to the river, and Madara has fishing rods. Hashirama doesn't know how to fish. (And he has a realization near the end.)
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Damn... This is love, huh.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Hashimada Happenings day 3: River!

Hashirama ran to the bank of the river as fast as he could. He had finally managed to get a day off from training with his father, and he wanted to spend it with Madara. He giggled to himself as he dashed through the trees.  
  
He burst on to the shore with a grin. Madara was there! And he had with him...  
"What're those?" he asked Madara.  
"Fishing rods. What, never seen one before?" Madara teased.  
"I know what they _are_ , I meant, you know... why'd you bring them?" Hashirama retorted defensively.  
The other boy grinned, and offered him one. "Today, we're fishing!"  
  
Hashirama adjusted his grip on the fishing rod, and raised it behind his head, ready to cast. But before he could finish the motion, Madara darted over and grabbed the pole halfway through.   
"DUMBASS! Haven't you ever cast a fishing rod before? You're gonna break it!" He huffed, and placed his hand over Hashirama's, moving it down. "These things are valuable, you know..." He sighed. "You have to hold it here...." he demonstrated, and adjusted the angle of the pole with his other hand, "and position it like this."  
Hashirama could feel his face heating up, hyper-aware of Madara's hand on top his own. He barely processed any of the information Madara continued to drone on about, his mind refusing to focus on anything but Madara- his hands, his face, his eyes. 

  
Eyes that were now looking at him in annoyance.   
"Well? Get it now?" the darker haired boy asked.   
Hashirama rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Eh... maybe you should just demonstrate for me?"  
Madara grumbled, but picked up his own fishing rod, and held it at an angle. He flicked his arm and wrist together, over and over, the fly on the hook darting on the water. Hashirama watched him, something warm and happy growing in his stomach.   
  
Yes, he decided. I might just love him.  
  
(He still held the sentiment at the end of the day, even if Madara _had_ beaten him ten to none at fishing and refused to shut up about it.)


End file.
